


I will fight (Just to keep you safe)

by Thedarkestcon



Series: For you, the world [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, As it should be, But its does not follow canon events, Dream isn’t a tyrannical dickhead, Everyone Is Alive, Except that now Philza's a kid, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Followed by a conspicuous amount of comfort, Fucking hell Tommy, Gen, He transferred Presidency to Tubbo peacefully, He'll give the world to his father in a heartbeat, Hybrid AU, L'manberg is on good terms with the Greater DSMP, Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Wilbur Soot, SBI lives together in Techno's winter cottage, Set in the DSMP, Tommy is Vice-President, Wilbur isn’t a psychotic bastard, everything is peaceful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28529955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedarkestcon/pseuds/Thedarkestcon
Summary: There was a baby avian hybrid nestled in Tommy’s arms.A baby avian hybrid, who could not look older than three, with golden locks, bright blue eyes and clad in shrunken but very familiar snow-covered green robes; Tiny, distinct wings laid flat across his back, his down feathers rustling free and untamed in the wind.Technoblade could only stare, gobsmacked. He stared and stared and then stared for a little bit longer, unable to physically fathom how his youngest brother, in the mere hours that he had been away mining, managed to blow up half of his sturdy house and procurethat.Or: Tommy accidentally fucked up in his attempt to show-off his newest potion concoction to his father-figure and somehow managed to de-age said father-figure.Alternatively: Technoblade only had Kidza for a day and a half but if anything happened to him, he would kill everyone on the server and then himself.
Relationships: In this house we do not accept smut or shipping, No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: For you, the world [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093448
Comments: 12
Kudos: 315





	I will fight (Just to keep you safe)

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve read a dozen of well-written fics based on Protective! Dadza taking care of a deaged Techno + co but never the other way around. So my brain went brrr and well... this was the end-product. 
> 
> This is set in the DSMP but does not follow the cannon lore at all. The server is basically a safe haven for hybrids of all types where L’manberg is a nation on its own who is on friendly terms with the Greater DSMP. The tags explains it all. Everyone is alive and happy as they rightfully should be and there are no wars at all because I’ve long lost track of the actual lore that has been happening on the SMP; May god have mercy on my soul.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

There was a baby avian hybrid nestled in Tommy’s arms. 

A baby avian hybrid, who could not look older than four, with golden locks, bright blue eyes and clad in shrunken but very familiar snow-covered green robes; Tiny, distinct wings laid flat across his back, his down feathers rustling free and untamed in the wind.

Behind them, the room was blown wide open, allowing the elements into the warm wooden surface that had once made up the second story of his house. Vaguely, one could make out charred brewing stands and half-destroyed chests. Items were strewn everywhere- some beyond saving and others just lying atop the splinted counter.

Technoblade could only stare, gobsmacked. He stared and stared and then stared for a little bit longer, unable to physically fathom how his youngest brother, in the mere hours that he had been away mining, managed to blow up half of his sturdy house and procure _that._

“I didn’t fu-freaking mean for it to happen!” Tommy managed out, his words high-pitched and strangled. The expletive was censored uncharacteristically as he fumbled with his feathered package that had perked up at the sight of a new face and who was now spilling out of the teenager’s trembling arms.

Reflexes kicking in from years of experience, Technoblade lunged forward with the urgency of a hunted man grabbing his falling weapon to snag the kid before he plummeted to the ground. Said kid, oblivious to the danger and the destruction around him, gave a loud whoop of excitement. Wrapping his arms tightly around Technoblade’s neck, the winged-child then swiveled around brightly, eager to see the sights from his newest vantage point. 

It all happened within the span of three seconds. Alas, three seconds was all it took to turn their lives upside-down.

Technoblade froze abruptly at the warm bundle in his arms as his vision was suddenly swathed in a blur of fluffy down-feathers. It was almost akin to holding a live grenade - but it was a weapon that he could not drop in good conscience. 

“Hi!” The kid chirped with a curious tilt of his head, gazing at the man who could now be passed off as a statue. Tiny fingers flicked experimentally through his fringe, the action a familiar motion to the warrior as his mind flickered back to calming nights _where a kind man with distinct golden locks and bright blue eyes - a father-figure to him in all respects but blood - would gently wrestle his hair into neat plaits..._

“I ‘wike your pink hair ‘mister!” 

The memory dissipated miserably into a cloud of smoke. 

Smiling brokenly, Techno forced his throat to move. He had to know. He had to confirm.

“W-what’s your name kid?”

_Please Aether above, pleasepleaseplease don’t be-_

Grinning, the winged hybrid puffed out his tiny wings with glowing pride. And with all the might a three year old could muster, the kid sent the world tumbling from below Technoblade's feet with his crippling answer.

“I’m Phil!” Then, not a second later.

“Wha’s _your_ name ‘mister?”

And perhaps, for the first time in years, Technoblade was rendered completely and utterly speechless.

Alas, a red shadow of movement flashed along his peripheral and instinctively, the warrior spun around, one hand cradling the back of defenseless soft down-feathers and the other one flying to the diamond sword at his belt. The voices in his head roared - loud and alive and in symphony; Whirling chaotically with the thoughts in his brain.

_Protect protect. Defend Philza, Dadza. Kid- Kidza. Defend-_

Only to see his youngest brother taking a step back with his palms up gingerly. At once, everything came rushing back to the man in a wave of horrid events.

“Explain.” The Blood God hissed, his expression thunderstruck as Tommy shrinked back from his frightening glare.

_“Quickly.”_

  
  
  


____

_“He’s making new recipes with Mundane potions? I didn’t think that was possible.” Phil muttered off-handedly, watching as Tommy tossed in a ward of blaze power to start up the brewing stand._

_“Yeah yeah!” The teen chortled, opening up a chest and scattering an assortment of items onto the counter. “Sam was experimenting on them and was given the green light to test it on friendly mobs in their community farm when he had finalized it!”_

_“I thought his specialty was in Redstone?”_

_“Well, yeah,” Tommy shrugged as he motioned for Phil to pass over the last glass bottle before slotting it into the the stand, “my guess is that the green bastard ‘commissioned’ him to try that instead of rewiring the lights at L’manberg with Redstone for the third time.” Phil bit back a snort, the tips of his wings twitching with mirth at both the thought of the poor man working on something that was going to be a waste of time and the look of pure contempt gracing the teen’s face at the mention of his ‘arch-nemesis’._

_It was old news to the server that Dream and Tommy had an on-going (friendly?) rivalry that started over two music discs. To be frank, he found it hilarious - it reminded Phil of the times, years ago, when Technoblade and Wilbur would squabble good-naturedly for the best spot to eat on the dinner table. But at the end of the day both parties knew where the lines of honor and respect were drawn and stopped at that._

_Perhaps in another world, wars between the two nations might have been sprung seeing how pig-headed and stubborn the two loudest figures of the server were. Phil was secretly glad Dream never once raised a weapon and Tommy never pushed his luck beyond unreasonable limits. Peace was always celebrated but never to be taken for granted around here._

_“I beg to differ, mate.” Phil decided to add in his two-cents. “Mundane potions take up an unreasonable amount of materials for it to be practical - even if Dream wanted to take his builder’s mind off blowing up half his server.”_

_Muttering noncommittally back, Tommy fished out more items and placed them carefully into the brewing stand. His face was scrunched in concentration and his eyes were far in deep thought. The older man shrugged mentally and silently decided to leave the youngest to his own devices. Not wanting to be a distraction but still feeling the need to be productive himself, Phil proceeded to make his way down into the basement instead._

_Contrary to popular belief, Philza wasn’t that much of a potion user. Sure he was well-versed in the recipes and had to admit that certain potions had its perks, but ultimately they all ran out at a certain point; At the end of the day, it just didn’t sit well with him to be too reliant on the otherworldly substances._

_His unofficially-adopted sons, on the other hand, dabbled in them... shall he say - obsessively. Their love for the so-called ‘Drugs’ as Tommy acclaimed them to be was like a moth to a flame. Technoblade was never seen without at least a potion of swiftness or a potion of strength with him. Wilbur always carried around a potion of invisibility for some reason. Even after passing on the mantle of leadership to Tubbo, the man never lost his love for creeping around like a phantom and scaring the living daylights out of poor unsuspecting by-standers._

_And Tommy… Tommy was growing and maturing at such a rapid speed, it made Phil’s heart swell with pride. Ever since the teen had been elected as the vice-president of L’manberg, it was a rare occasion that his youngest came by their house in the middle of the winter forests nowadays. After all, Phil did have a house constructed in L’manberg so his youngest did not have to make the long trek to see them. Nevertheless, Phil was looking forward to a long-awaited reunion with all three of his sons. The duo were now waiting on Technoblade who had gone out mining and Wilbur who had gone to hunt for their dinner._

_Shifting his wings so they wouldn’t get in the way in the cramped space, Phil brushed his hands over the myriad of half-filled chests that were stacked in the corner and began to rearrange the items inside. It was an ongoing project he had with Technoblade to reorganize and revamp with the intention of including new resources and extra storage space. He worked in the ambient silence for the next twenty or so minutes, listening to the low shuffling of his footsteps on smooth stone and the sounds of shifting tomes sliding over the slowly-filling chests…_

_It was too quiet._

_A shiver of dread slid down his spine, ruffling his feathers uncomfortably._

_The house was never quiet. Especially so when Tommy was present. The feeling of foreboding settled low and heavy in Phil’s gut. And if there was something he learnt in the five years he spent on his own in his survival server it would be to never second-guess his instincts._

_Abandoning the books in the dust, the man scurried up the rope ladder and onto the second floor where he last left his youngest son-_

_Just in the nick of time to see three brewing stands smoking at an alarming rate and Tommy’s fear stricken face as the ominous sound of something hissing filled the room like a creeper ready to explode-_

_“Tommy! Shit,_ **_TOMMY LOOK OUT!_ ** _”_

_Throwing caution to the wind, his protective instincts in overdrive, Philza threw himself in front of the teen, spreading his wings wide to encircle them both against the brunt of the failed experiment._

_Panic crippled his limbs as a vivid flash of blue and an explosion of white filled his vision, blinding him entirely._

_The last thing he heard was the cry of shock from his youngest son and the shattering of glass before Philza was plunged painlessly into the void of black._

____

  
  
  


The dead wild stag he had freshly gutted was left to chill on the ice as Wilbur took in the series of events that were unravelling in front of his very eyes at a pace that was making his poor head spin. 

Technoblade was still locked in a terrifying one-sided yelling match with Tommy after their youngest brother had confessed his sins and spilled his side of the story in the heat of the moment. Biting his lip, Wilbur surveyed the damage caused.

It was a stroke of luck that the next big snowstorm was forecast for next week because that at least it gave them more time to patch the destroyed walls of the second-story, sweep away the broken window shards and replace the charred floorboards. The interior would then be easier to fix in the later date when they did not have to fear the strongest winter draft. And even if they couldn’t repair it in time, they could just temporarily move back to Phil’s home reserved in L’manberg. Tubbo will take them in a heartbeat. See, collateral damage like that could be undone without much worry. 

Alas, Wilbur wasn’t sure if he could say the same for the tiny boy with overly large wings who was currently hiding his face into the crook of his brother’s shoulders as Techno’s voice grew steadily in volume. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that Tommy swore left right and center that _yes that hybrid kid was Phil_ or Technoblade’s confirmation that _Wilbur, he literally introduced himself to me earlier. God, Wil, our dad is a kid what the fu-heck do we do?!_ the miniature green robes, the blond hair and the familiar pair of wings (now fluffy and much, much smaller than its predecessor) itself would be a dead giveaway of the true designation of the child. 

At least no one was hurt.

Nevertheless, judging by the way Techno shifted the aforementioned winged child onto his other shoulder to continue his angry monologuing rant - eyes tinting with red- Tommy would be dishing out his penance for some time to come. Frankly, Wilbur was certain that the only thing physically holding Techno back from actually wringing their youngest’s brother's neck like a washcloth was the... kid himself.

(Wilbur was still unable to connect the fact that said kid was actually Philza. How could such a powerful hybrid survivor - one who had plucked Techno and himself from the pits of death, raised them through what was left of their traumatic childhood and protected them through and through - start off so… defenseless?) 

A cold breeze struck the air from the cracked walls causing the little hybrid to shiver and burrow deeper into his brother’s crimson cloak. His underdeveloped wings fluttered uselessly trying to conserve heat that he was losing the longer his tiny self remained exposed to the elements. But it was left unnoticed by the pair, drowned by Tommy’s vain attempts to defend himself against the wrath of his brother.

Well. This just would not do. 

With the flourish of the dramatic musician he was, Wilbur stepped into the eye of the storm and deftly plucked the newly reverted Kidza out of his brother’s arms. Ignoring a squawk of alarm and a dangerous growl, the founder of L’manberg secured the precious bundle into his hold and started to make his way to the warmer part of the house. Later, when the walls had been patched and the adrenaline had died down, Techno would have told him, with barely controlled contempt, that the only reason he had not been instantly decapitated by his sword in the heat of the moment was due to the fact that Techno had recognized the sound of his footsteps.

 _Perks of being your twin, huh?_ Wilbur would have quirked back in a heartbeat, unamused. 

Pulling his maroon beanie off his head, Wilbur made sure the woolen surface was pressed snuggly against the kid’s back, covering his wings entirely. A surge of protectiveness swelled around his heart as he felt the tiny body flinch from the abrupt exchange and the newest contact to the sensitive appendages. 

“Hey there,” he started gently, not wanting to spook the child. “You alright now?” 

“‘M cold.” The bundle in his arms replied miserably, muffled by his winter coat. 

Sighing, Wilbur turned back to his brothers who had finally decided to pull themselves together and shook his head exaggeratedly at them, almost as if to say: _Look at what you two have done. I hope you are proud of yourselves, idiots._

Satisfaction bubbled in his chest as he saw Techno looking pointedly away and Tommy shuffling his feet in the snow that had begun to settle on their broken floorboards. Rearranging his grip so his beanie would not slide off, Wilbur snagged a few pieces of coal and wood scraps from the mantle and slid them into the nearest furnace.

“Let’s get warm shall we?”

The spark flickered into a flame and soon a fire was roaring at a comfortable heat. Shifting his body so his back was against the wind, Wilbur positioned himself as close to the furnace as he deemed it safe to be and removed the impromptu coat off their tiny guest. The man saw the moment the kid felt the warmth of the flame; the tips of his soon-to-be flight feathers started to twitch sporadically. Almost as if emerging from a semi-stasis mode, the hybrid squirmed in his place till he was facing the source of the fire. 

An unconscious smile crossed Wilbur’s face at the sight of the tiny winged-child closing his eyes and basking in the warmth, looking as content as he could be in his secure arms. A little bit of his stone-cold heart begun to thaw like snow in the spring because _fuck was that an adorable sight._

Behind him, he could hear Technoblade’s grunt of effort as he started spreading out large leather tarps to begin temporarily patching the massive hole in the wall as if on autopilot. But he could feel his twin’s sharp eyes on him. If looks could mutilate, Wilbur’s back would have been reduced to bloody shreds. Tommy must have turned back to retrieve their dinner if the distant sound of something heavy getting dragged across ice was anything to go by. Wilbur knew that he should be getting up to help or at least make something out of this organized chaos but really he was just enjoying the moment. 

Besides, how many people could say that they had held a baby avian hybrid (which, on its own, was already rarer and akin to naturally generated emeralds in caves) and that said hybrid was also somehow their de-aged father-figure? 

God was this so fucking surreal. Wilbur was still bracing himself to jolt awake in bed in realization that this was all some wacked-up dream.

A little tug on the lapel of his coat brought him out of his musing. Little Phil beamed up at him as if Wilbur was the fucking sun itself and gestured for the man to come closer. Playing along, Wilbur proceeded to widen his eyes in mock curiosity and leaned in closer to him to share the secret. 

“Havs they stop bein’ loudy and mad?” The kid whispered-shouted, gesturing animatedly to the two figures behind who had suddenly stopped all movement abruptly. Biting back a sarcastic chortle, the brunet willed himself to stop trembling with mirth at the incredulousness of the entire situation. If he tried hard enough, he could practically _smell_ the embarrassment leaching off his twin and hear the vulgar retort Tommy chose to wisely bite back seeing that he was personally responsible for the events leading up to this unimaginable point. 

Oh, if they all got out of this one successfully, Wilbur would definitely take this particular memory to the _goddamn grave._

“I will personally make sure Techno and Tommy behave.” Wilbur nodded back gravely, struggling to hide a bark of laughter threatening to spill from his lips as he raised his fist to tap his chest twice. 

“Scout's honor, kid.” 

The blinding smile he received in return accompanied by the sounds of delighted, young laughter that filled the snowy clearing was enough to wash away the last of the tension lingering in the air and melt the ice around the hearts of even the fiercest warrior.

Wilbur looked over towards his brothers; At Tommy who carefully returned the Cheshire grin that little Phil had generously shared - nevertheless, lingering traces of guilt shone clear as day in his sky blue eyes; And at his twin who’s eyes had never left the defenseless shape of the precious winged bundle on Wilbur’s lap, his lips slowly twisting into a silver ghost of a bittersweet smile.

And for a single moment in time, as the family and their newest outlier basked in the warmth of the furnace in the middle of their half-destroyed home - illuminated by the flickering of gentle flames, Wilbur just knew that, in spite of the myriad of uncertainties lying in their wake, everything would somehow be alright in the end.

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> So, more De-aged! Phil + SBI fluff and other potential worldbuilding or nah?


End file.
